A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to get these guys rolling again, but they're back. For those who have been reading this fic, thanks so much for waiting.
Also, thanks to coldplaywhore, aciepey, sncmom, and askthemagic8ball for reading and fixing stuff. They're better than a Costco size pack of Kleenex.
BPOV
"What does..." She stops then sighs. Abby's thinking hard about what she wants to ask as I brush her hair. I'm standing behind her, watching her reflection in the mirror. Her face is serious; there are a few little crinkles between her eyebrows. After setting the brush on the bathroom counter, I thread her hair into a long braid then secure the end with a pink elastic band.
"What, Abs?" I ask.
"I can't remember the words."
"You can't remember what you wanted to ask me?"
"No, the words from Edward's book."
I tilt my head in confusion.
Abby turns around to face me. "He wrote a lot of stuff in his book and he let me read it on the beach. Remember?"
I nod, but I'm not sure why she's just bringing this up now. "Have you been thinking about what you read in his book? Were there a lot of big words?"
"Yes. He wrote 'love' a lot, but it wasn't like a story. It was boring, and I didn't understand it," she says, flatly. "Do you think it will get better?"
"Um, I don't know. Why are you thinking about this now, anyway?" As I pick up the brush and rake it through my damp hair I wonder what Edward's book is about – I didn't ask last night, and think now, maybe I should have. I should definitely ask today. He doesn't have kids – what if what he deemed appropriate to read really wasn't for a seven year old? I'm not going to press for more information from Abby; if she doesn't remember, all the better because I really don't want to have an embarrassing conversation with her right now.
She shrugs. "I don't know. I just am." Abby carefully runs her palms over her hair. "How do I look?" she asks as if she's going out on a date. I laugh and shake my head.
"Gorgeous as always." She's all toothy with her smile and starts to walk away.
Sounds of nasally singing and boisterous laughter followed by a series of boings and crashes come from the television in the other room and resonate loudly through the hallway. I yell for Abby to turn down the volume as I rifle through my closet, searching for something to wear. She does but only minutely. I'm distracted, borderline agitated, because all I can think about are the few seconds Edward held onto my hand last night, how it felt for someone to touch me like that again.
For the first time since Riley died, I didn't look forward to going to bed the night before. Going to sleep had always meant there was a small chance I'd see Riley again, but last night the feeling of being alone was overwhelming.
I like Edward, and that scares the hell out of me.
I settle on a pair of denim shorts and a red tank – shorts and tanks are the staples of my wardrobe, so it's not as if I have a lot to choose from. Besides, it's just breakfast, and Abby is coming. It's not a date. It's only a meal.
I don't date. Edward is a friend… nothing more.
Abby is sitting on the edge of the couch; she looks stiff, and I ask her if she's okay. She tells me she doesn't want to mess up her hair. My heart sinks a little. She really likes Edward, and she's going to miss him when he leaves. I shouldn't have agreed to go out with him this morning. If Abby didn't already know, I'd call him right now to cancel. But she does, and he's going to be here any minute.
Our front door bursts open, then Jack charges in followed by Alice.
"What's goin' on, chica?" she asks, slamming the door behind her. The straps of her bathing suit peek through the collar her t-shirt and an oversized bag is slung over her shoulder. "You're not ready." Alice dumps the bag on the floor then yells for Jack not to jump on Abby. It's too late, though; the two of them are laughing and wrestling on the couch. Abby doesn't seem too concerned about her hair now.
"Ready for what?"
"We're taking the kids to the beach today."
"Um, no, that's tomorrow." I point to the calendar on the refrigerator.
Alice cranes her neck. "Oh, shit, sorry. Well, so what. Go put on your suit and let's go anyway." She moves around me then opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water. "Hey, Abs! Wanna go to the beach?"
"We can't," I interject, leaning back against the counter.
"Why? What are you doing?" She sips her water then fluffs my hair. "You look pretty."
I glance at the clock; Edward should be here any minute. "Abby and I are going out for breakfast… with Edward." I scrunch my nose, waiting for her reaction.
Alice licks her lips before she slowly curves them into a half smile. "Oh."
Oh. Perfect.
"Mmhmm." I clear my throat then walk past her toward the living room.
Alice slaps my ass then whispers, "You can thank me later." She looks toward Abby. "Hey, Abby. Jack and I are going to have ice cream for breakfast, and then we're going to see what Jasper found diving yesterday." She taps her chin, looking toward the ceiling. I know what she's doing, and she's so dead. "I think it was a piece of a Queen's treasure, but I'm not sure. Do you want to come with us? I think Jasper could use your opinion."
Alice ignores my glare, nodding her head toward Abby in encouragement. Jack hops off the couch, tugging Abby by her hand. "Let's go, Abby. My mom never let's me have ice cream for breakfast."
"Really?" I hiss at Alice. She winks then quickly kisses my cheek.
"Really."
Abby's eyes are wide; she wants to go, but she's hesitant. There's a knock at the door, and Alice sashays toward it, mumbling something about wondering who it could possibly be.
Edward walks in; he looks either surprised or confused, but he's polite. He's always polite.
I smile a hello to him and then tell Abby if she wants to go with Alice and Jack, she can.
"You're not coming?" Edward asks her, and she's really torn – I feel so badly for her.
"I don't know," Abby answers. Half of her braid is undone, and she smoothes her little hands against her hair. I explain the situation my best friend has put my daughter in as I re-braid Abby's hair.
"Oh, well," he starts, "you won't hurt my feelings if you don't want to come with your mom and me. In fact, if it's okay with your mom, maybe I can take you two out to dinner tonight." Edward bites his bottom lip, slowly lifting his eyes toward me.
"Can I?" Abby twists her body to look up at me.
"What happened to one meal?"
"Dinner is one meal," he answers.
Just as I'm about to say something about his inability to add, Alice interjects.
"Now that that's settled, let's go you two." Alice picks up her bag off the floor then leads Abby and Jack out the door.
Edward shoves his hands in his pockets as soon as the door closes and shifts from one foot to the other. There's an awkward silence between us now we're alone.
But it's not a date. He's just a nice looking guy who's taking me to breakfast, so no awkwardness required, right?
Taking a deep breath, I smile at him. "So," I say.
"Looks like it's just you and me." His grin is wide and cheesy.
"Guess so. That was pretty sneaky of you… the dinner thing."
"Persistent, not sneaky, there's a difference," he says with a serious look on his face.
"Is there?"
Edward nods toward the door, and I grab my keys and bag off the table. "Yeah, there's a huge difference between the two."
"I had no idea. Thanks for clearing that up." It's hard not to play along with him, and I roll my eyes as I lock the door behind us.
"No problem. Just…" He shakes his head and laughs to himself.
"What?" I ask as he walks me to the passenger side of his Jeep and then opens the door. As I climb in, he hangs on to the top of the door.
"I was going to say to call me anytime you needed something."
He pauses for a second before he shuts the door, and I watch him round the front of the Jeep, twirling the key ring around his finger. If he held the door open for a minute longer I think I'd have said that I would call him. And this surprises the heck out of me.
Edward starts the Jeep without a saying a word; I don't say anything either, and what was awkward silence between us earlier is now uncomfortable, for me anyway. There's a strange feeling in my stomach, and I have no idea what to do about it.
I remember again how it felt when he held my hand last night and decide there's no way I can think of him in any other way besides a friend. Maybe these feelings are there because he saved Abby from being hit by a car. Isn't that normal? To confuse feelings of gratitude and… like? After breakfast, I'll see him again for dinner, and then that will be it. I'll tell him tonight that it's silly for him to pursue me, that I'm not interested because that's what's best for both of us. But until then I'll just be myself, and I'll definitely not give him any mixed signals.
We've pulled out onto the highway. The sun is really hot, reflecting brightly off the ocean, and I wonder if he's wearing enough sunscreen because it's really going to suck for him if he's not.
"Did you take your antibiotics?" I ask. He glances over and nods. "Are you wearing enough sunscreen? Because if not-"
"I am." He smiles, and I realize I probably sound like his mother.
Maybe that's a good thing, to sound like a person with whom he'd have no other interest besides of the platonic kind. Is that even the right word when thinking of parents? Platonic? No, that's not right. I can't think of what the word is… and what the hell is wrong with me? Who cares about the correct word? My thoughts are never this nonsensical. Ever. I'm thinking too much again. Either that or I've just discovered that I'm slowly starting to lose my mind. This shouldn't be so hard.
Looking at Edward, he's glancing between me and the road. "You okay? You look like you were trying to solve a calculus problem in your head or something."
"Did I? No… I was just wondering where we're going," I lie, but I don't think he believes me. My hair is flying all over the place, and I pull a few pieces away from my mouth. I wish I had pulled it back before leaving; it's going to be a mess by the time we get to wherever he's taking us.
Edward grins; he's staring straight ahead at the road now, and he shakes his head.
"You're not going to tell me?" I ask.
"Uh uh."
"You don't know your way around – what if you get us lost?"
Edward shifts gears then passes a car which is moving slower than my grandmother… walking… with her walker.
He's smiling again and looks at me from over his new sunglasses. "Would that be the worst thing in the world?" he asks. His chin is dimpled – it's kind of cute. Edward pushes them back up his nose then focuses on the road again.
"It might be," I reply.
"Why's that?" he chuckles.
I shift in the leather seat so that I'm facing him then gather as much of my hair as I can and hold it with my hand. "What if we end up in a place with no restaurant? Or a gas station? We could run out of gas driving around, you know. I hear these things have really bad gas mileage. We'd have to walk for miles until we found something."
"Hmm. I hadn't really thought about that." Edward reaches across my knee, his forearm barely grazing it, and I jump, but he shows no signs of noticing my reaction. Instead he opens the glove box, pulls something out then closes it again. "Here," he says and tosses me a pack of gum. "We won't starve."
I lightly scratch my knee; the tingling sensation is subtle, but it's there, and I decide to ignore it. I hold the gum out. "Cinnamon?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"
"Edward, cinnamon gum does nothing for your breath. Now I know we can't be friends." I unwrap a piece and pop it into my mouth. He holds out his hand, and I drop another piece on his palm.
"What if I don't want to be friends?" he asks, staring straight ahead.
I don't say anything for a moment and turn away from him to look out the open window.
"Actually, don't answer that now."
/*/*/*/*/
"Quid pro quo," he says, tossing me an apple. He's packed fruit, muffins, and juice in a Styrofoam cooler. We're at Big Pine Key, and I wonder if he knows this particular island is flooded with Key Deer. Maybe he does and thought it would be fun for Abby, and if that's the case, Edward is proving to be very considerate.
"What, like we each get to ask any question we want?" We're sitting cross-legged facing each other on one of the blankets he took from his hotel room. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees as I turn the stem of the apple back and forth.
It reminds me of when I was a little girl. My friends and I used to say a letter of the alphabet with each twist of the stem. Whatever letter we said when the stem finally came off was supposed to be the first letter of the name of the boy we were going to marry. I huff a quiet laugh at the memory.
"What?"
I shake my head. "Nothing. Just thinking about a silly game I used to play when I was a kid."
"Do you like to play games?" Edward bites into his apple then slides his sunglasses to rest on top of his head. He squints from the brightness, completely closing one eye.
"Is that your first question?" I laugh.
"No." His mouth is full. He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb as he swallows. "Favorite color?"
"Starting off easy? Okay… orange. What's your book about?"
Edward grins. "A soldier who comes back from Iraq to find his wife with someone else after everyone thought he was dead." He continues to describe the events he has planned for his book, but it's heartbreakingly romantic – not at all what I expected.
"You're a romantic at heart?" I ask.
"I never thought I was before, but yeah, I guess I am."
"Abby asked me about the notes or whatever it was you have written in your notebook. You let her read it the other night, remember?" He nods. "There isn't anything in there that a seven-year-old shouldn't have read, is there?"
"No," he laughs. "Just notes like you said. Ideas… Would you like to read it sometime?"
Yes, I think I do. I'm curious, really curious about him now, but that doesn't matter. I'm going to stick with the plan.
"Why don't you mail me a signed copy after you're published," I say, and he agrees. "So, back to the game."
Edward leans back on his elbows. "My turn? Okay, let's see… biggest fish you've ever caught."
I smile. "Are you sure you want to know that answer? I wouldn't want to embarrass you seeing how you struggled with your catch the other night."
"Funny girl," he says. "Don't worry about it; I'm very comfortable with my masculinity."
"Um, okay… You know the sailfish hanging in Rudder's?" He scrunches his nose, trying to remember. "Make sure you take a look if you go there again - sixty-seven pounds, about two years ago."
"Liar." He laughs. "I think you're just trying to make me look bad."
"No, I did! I swear!" He sits up, and I lean forward. "It was bigger than this," I say, spreading my arms as wide as I can. "But… Emmett helped me reel him in."
"I don't think that counts."
"It counts. It was on my line, so it counts."
"If you say so," he says, and clearly, he doesn't understand the laws of fishing.
"I do. Trust me."
"I will."
"You should."
"I do." He laughs.
"Good." I shake my head at him; he's funny. "My turn… if you were stranded on a deserted island, what two things would you take with you?"
"Hold on. That is an assumption – I thought this was a real, down and dirty, honest Q and A thing we were doing." I open my mouth to interrupt, but he holds up one finger. "And people get three choices, not two."
"What someone would take with them to a deserted island speaks volumes about said person, and it's my question, so I'm giving you two items. Be creative, Mr. Author, sir."
"Two?"
"Two." Edward stretches his arms over his head and cracks his knuckles. "Tick tock."
"Hey, if you can change the rules to the most basic question, I'm calling no time."
I roll my eyes, but it's too bad he can't tell since I'm wearing sunglasses. "Fair enough… but you can't have any contact with anyone or anything off the island."
"You can't keep changing the rules!" he teases.
"Geez, fine. Whatever two things you want - now, go."
"My laptop and a fishing rod."
"You'd starve."
"How? I'd have a rod."
"No matches or a lighter? How will you be able to cook the tiny fish you catch?"
He lifts his hands, palms up. "I'd rub two sticks together. And I'm sure," he says, now stretching his arms as wide as he can reach, "my fish would be bigger than this."
We go back and forth with a few more easy questions, none too intimate. Because I'm really curious I want to know more about him. It's safe and friendly. He's told me the basics: his parents' names, his birth date, and he knows the same about me.
We're quiet for a few moments. There's a slight breeze ruffling the palm fronds above, the water laps at the edge of the beach, and I'm drawing circles and wavy lines in the sand with my fingers as he sits up again. Edward shifts closer and moves his hand near mine. He follows the patterns I've drawn, and when he swirls his finger over one of the curves it against brushes mine. I pull my hand back and stare down at the sand. Every little touch feels like it's intentional.
"Can I ask another question? You don't have to answer this one if you don't want to," he says. Edward reaches toward my sunglasses. "May I?"
"Okay," I say, removing my sunglasses before he can – he's close to me now, but I don't pull away. I should, but I don't. There's a look on his face that's so familiar. His expression, it's hesitant, but there's something more, like there are a million things running through his mind. And his eyes, they're so green right now from the sunlight peeking through the trees above us.
"I wanted to know if it would be all right if I kissed you."
He doesn't move forward or even flinch, Edward is just watching me, gauging my reaction. He's waiting for me to say something, but I can't. My heart begins to pound, and I don't know if I'm supposed to be angry or offended or what because I'm neither of those things. Shouldn't I be?
It doesn't matter because… "I can't," I say and put my sunglasses back on.
As I stand, he does too. "Bella, I'm sorry. It's just that… I don't know." He mutters something to himself, and we pick up the blanket and pack up the cooler. "That was way too forward of me. I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine," I say as he shakes the sand from the blanket. I don't know what to do so I pick up the cooler and head toward his Jeep. I feel like I need to get away from here as fast as possible otherwise I think I'll start to cry.
We're silent on the ride home, and after we pull up to my house, Edward hops out of the Jeep to walk me to the door. I don't give him a chance to say anything more and I hope he already knows that dinner is off.
There's no way I can see him again.
"Bella," he starts, but I raise one hand to stop him as I simultaneously unlock the door.
"It's okay, Edward, really. Not a big deal." My voice sounds shaky to me, but I feign a smile as I step into the house. "Thanks for today, and good luck with your book. Have a safe trip home," I tell him quickly, the words running out of my mouth fast and without pause, and I close the door before he has a chance to say anything.
I'm leaning with my back against the door practically holding my breath, waiting for the sound of him starting the engine. It seems like it's taking him forever to leave, but when he finally does it's like everything I've held in for the past four years just pours out of me.
These stupid tears are relentless, and I cannot stop crying. It hurts, everything hurts: my stomach, my head, my heart. I want to stop; I don't understand why, but I just can't. As I sit on the edge of my bed, I'm ugly crying – hiccupping, snot and tears run down my face, and I feel like I can't breathe.
I didn't hear them come in; Alice sits on my bed next to me, her expression horrified.
"What happened?" she asks, her voice frantic as she puts her arm around me, but all I can do is shake my head. "Bella? Honey. What the hell is going on? Did Edward to something? I'll kill him if he did."
"No, he was…" I start ugly crying again.
"He what?" She jumps up and runs into the bathroom, coming out with a box of tissues in her hand. She pulls out too many and shoves them at me. "Bella, talk to me!"
I take a few shaky breaths, trying to calm myself. Alice is squeezing my shoulder with one hand and rubbing my knee with the other.
"I don't know where that came from," I say, drying my face with a few tissues. "Where're Abby and Jack?" I don't want either of them to see me like this.
"In the living room, divvying up shells." She trades me clean tissues for the dirty ones. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
I tell her how everything was fine, that we were having a nice time talking. "And then out of nowhere he asked if he could kiss me. I said no, he apologized for being too forward, but I couldn't get home fast enough, and I told him goodbye."
She screws up her face and looks completely confused. "Is that why you were crying like that? Because he asked if he could kiss you?" I shake my head. "Well, then why?"
Only now does it dawn on me. "I wanted him to, Alice. I wanted him to kiss me. I miss what it feels like, and there's something about him. He's kind and funny and sweet, but he's leaving and even if he wasn't… I'm so, so scared."
"Oh, honey," she says, wrapping both arms around me. "You can't go through the rest of your life by yourself."
"But that's not even it, or maybe it is, I don't know. I like Edward, and I'm afraid to because then it's like I'm saying goodbye to Riley. I can't do that again, Alice."
The tears start all over. After a few minutes, Alice tells me she's going to check on the kids and get them settled with a movie. When she comes back, she says she's called Jasper to pick them up, that he's on duty for the rest of the day because she and I are going to spend the rest of the day eating or sleeping or drinking or whatever it is that I want to do. She tells me not to worry about Abby, that Abby and Jack can have a sleep-over at her house, and we'll have our own.
We end up doing all of those things and have thrown in a little bad TV here and there too. By the time the sun finally goes down, I'm exhausted, stuffed, and a little drunk. She's apologized for pushing me to go out with Edward, but she also said she's not giving up on me either. I know what she means, and I love her for it. I'm going to get past this sometime, but not right now. Today is not that day.
A/N: Thanks for reading.
